Civilian
by Butterflywriter
Summary: After the Battle of New York all Clint wanted to do was relax and sleep. But when something from the mission he has spent the last couple of months trying to get over suddenly appears, he has choices to make and explaining to do to a partner he usually tells everything.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello Loves, this is my first Avengers story and will most likely be around 3-4 chapters long. Hope yo like!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel. I do own Odessa and Nino**

The Team sank into their chairs, well, fell into their chairs now that they didn't need to save the world anymore. Tony was at the counter ordering whatever type of food they served here. Honestly, no one knew or cared what kind it was, they were just happy to sit down. Although Clint was pretty sure that now that he was sitting, standing wasn't going to be happening for a very long time. Natasha gracefully took her seat next to her longtime partner and Clint slowly lifted a leg up onto her seat, elevating his ankle that he probably sprained. He felt the others take their seats around the table, everyone dropping into the plastic chairs half praying that they wouldn't break. The dust in the air had almost settled, but the smell of gunpowder was heavy in the air, but that was probably because the person who's chair he had half commandeered had been shooting for the past ….. however long the battle lasted. Sweat. He also smelled sweat and a number of different body odors. He ran his gaze over Nat, cataloging her injuries. Nothing to write home about, she would be sore, a few shallow cuts and bruises, but over all, everything was good.

He sent a quick glance over everyone else. Thor seemed fine. Steve was resting his head on his fist, but wasn't doubled over in pain, he was fine. Bruce was slightly behind Clint, but was looking around with his hands resting in his lap: fine. Tony was at the counter still, hands moving as fast as his mouth: fine. Clint looked down at his hands. He sighed and wiggled his fingers, beginning his own inventory. Fingers: there, arms: going to be sore for a day or two, shoulders: same as arms, torso: a few scrapes and bruise were going to be forming over the next couple hours, legs/feet: more bruises and cuts from glass shards, possible sprained ankle from rolling through that stupid window. Over all, sore, but intact and not dead. He slowly brought his head up from looking down at his foot and realized that there was a tray of food front of him. He should probably be worried that he didn't notice it get, most likely, drop in front of him, but he was really to tired to care.

He caught a look from Natasha out of the corner of his eye. He looks over and read the concern and evaluation in her gaze. He sighed again. She had been doing that for the past 8 months.

* * *

 _Clint walked off the plane, past Natasha. She frowned as she followed him, not use to being ignored by her partner, a partner who had been on a solo mission for the past 6 months. Halfway down the runway she grabbed his arm. The archer turned slowly, hesitating before meeting her eyes, knowing she was one of the very few people who could read him. Her eyes flew over his face, searched his eyes. Confusion, pain, completion, guilt, exhaustion, hardness and a vacancy. Her eyes widened half a fraction when she realized, he felt lost. Never in the 7 years they had worked together had she ever seen him lost. Her grip tightened on his arm but he didn't offer her a smirk. He simply looked at her, hoping she had the answers. Without a word, Clint walk the remainder of the way to the building and left for his debriefing._

 _Tasha waiting on one of the uncomfortable chairs in the hallway for her partner. She stood when the door opened and he stepped out. She followed him silently to his room and sat on his bed while he showered. She analyzed him as he unpacked his duffel simply because of muscle memory. He sat next to her, shirt clinging to his still wet back as he dropped his head in his hands. She knew she was the only one he would do this with, so she simply sat next to him, hoping he would share what was on his mind._

 _"_ _Civilian?" Her voice questioned the silent man. She saw him nod before he brought his hand to the back of his neck, causing his head to fall closer to his knees. She placed her hand between his shoulder blades. He pushed his left hand farther down his back and lace the tips of their fingers together._

* * *

Clint slowly pulled the tray of food until it dropped onto his lap and he surveyed what Tony had bought. It looked like a greek burrito. He picked at the meat and pushed the burrito apart with his finger. He knew it wasn't a burrito, but he honestly couldn't remember what Tony had called this stuff. Slowly, painfully he brought a hunk of the meat to his mouth and half heartedly chewed. Thankfully it tasted good. Really good. What was this again, new he really needed to know. He turned to look at the counter to read the menu, but a pull against the bruised torso made him stop and wince. Later, he would figure out what this was later.

He listened to the team, all quiet breathing. Bruce and Thor were the only ones actually eating, everyone else was simply trying to stay awake. Those that work at the restaurant were all moving around, cleaning, picking up chairs, stuff like that. He heard them moving around and speaking greek to each other. If he actually focused he could figure out what they were saying.

"Michael?" A new voice called across the room. Clint froze all movement and Natasha felt him stiffen next to her. The voice called again and Clint slowly lifted his head. Coming out of the kitchen was a young woman with dark hair piled up on her head. Clint's leg dropped off the Natasha's chair and he stood. Most the of the woman was hidden behind the counter, but when he stood Clint saw the face of the tiny woman. He began to make his way toward the kitchen.

"Dessa?" The woman walked closer to the high counter, a tearful smile began to form on her caramel face.

"Michael."

Clint froze, his eyes roamed over her face, soaking in her features. The others watched as their Archer lost the calm, cool and collected air that he always carried into a man who seemed lost. She in turn was also drinking in his face, like one who has just found a love one.

"What are you doing here?" Not one of his muscles moved. He watched as she wiped a tear with her palm.

"My Uncle died. I was free. My brother sent for me to come to America and live with him." She smiled a small smile while whipping tears off her chin. "I look for you when I come, but I not find your work and no one know you." As the team watched her, they all noticed a sadness in her eyes and the tear were not all happy ones. "I know you are not who you say you are, that you're name is not Michael. I also think you have something to do with my Uncle dying."

* * *

 _Clint snuck down the hallway, ignoring paintings on the walls and the silver in the alcoves. He was in a bad mood and wanted to get this job over with. He hated close range jobs. Why he was the one that got assigned this mission was beyond him. He had planned it just right, the target was passed out drunk on the bed. He silently appeared next to the king sized bad and pushes a needle into the man's arm. After emptying the clear, untraceable_ _poison into the target, he removed the needle. The man never even flinched._

 _The assign left the room without any evidence that he was ever there. Back down the hallway and out a side window. He strolled down the street, his mind too full to enjoy the warm Greece air or a job well done. At the top of a small hill he glanced back at the city for only a moment before climbing into the jet that would take him back to the States._

* * *

Natasha recognized the look in her partner's eyes as the one he had when he got off the plane, back when this whole thing started. His body had gone even more ridged after the woman's accusation. Clint wanted to tell her he was sorry, that it was his job, his orders. He tried to convey these things to her with his eyes, his lips not being able to move from their tight frown.

"Thank you."

Her soft words shocked him. He had never been thanked for killing someone, especially not a family member. He searched her face, but it only held gratefulness. If anyone saw the tear that escaped from Clint's eye, they would never mention it.

"Why." His whisper was only heard by the woman before him, the woman who held all of his attention. Loki could return and go on a killing spree in the restaurant around him and his eyes would never waver from the brown ones before him.

"His death freed me. You knew I was practically a prisoner. I never thought I would see you again. I did not think I would be able to thank you and now you have saved me again." She smiled at him again. Clint couldn't wrap his head around what she was saying. _If she knew I help cause this, she wouldn't be saying this_. His thoughts tried to find blame and justify what he believed of himself. He didn't acknowledge the man that entered the restaurant from the kitchen until the woman's attention was taken from him.

"Odessa, who is this?" The man was clearly related to the woman who had Clint's attentions. "Is this the man?" Anger started to brew behind his dark eyes as he moved toward Odessa.

"Please, Brother, go back into the kitchen." She turned away from Clint and toward her brother, her hands out toward him.

"Is this him?" He insisted again, stepping up to his sister who placed her hands on his chest and pushed him lightly back to the door where he had entered.

"Do not make a scene, he has allowed me to come to America to you. We should be grateful, not angry." She pushed again, but his frame towered over her.

"Grateful? Grateful!" He brushed past the tiny woman and up to the man who was watching their exchange. "I should beat you until you can no longer breath." The threat was laced with anger. Across the room chairs slid back as members of the team stood at the threat against one of their own.

"Nino, stop." Odessa called from her position behind the counter.

"I have every right. You have taken her future away." He took a step closer to the archer who had turned his attention the man before him and sized him up. He had muscle, but Clint estimated that it would take less then two minutes to take him down if he tried anything.

"Anthony." Odessa's voice rang out with authority in the small room. Everyone stopped and looked at her, including the two men. "He has taken _nothing_ away from me, only given."

Anthony scoffed and marched toward his sister, anger rolled off him in waves.

"Oh yes, he has given you much. Shall we show him just how much he has given you?" He grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her to the end of the counter. Clint and half the team began to rush to the woman's aid.

"Anthony if you do not unhand you will no long be able to have children." Her voice was low and deadly. her brother released his grip immediately and took a step back. A flash of horror crossed his face as he looked at the red mark on her tan arm. His eyes looked down to meet his sisters and her gaze softened, she placed a hand on his arm.

"Dessa?" Clint's voice carried over the counter and she closed her eyes at the sound. Anthony squeezed her shoulder and took a step back. Odessa took a deep breath and walked out from behind the counter. Clint sucked in a breath and felt his knees grew weak. In the middle of her light frame was a very round baby belly. She stood uncertain in the room. Clint could not tear his eyes from her center. He took step and then another until her was right in front of Odessa, then his fell to his knees.

"Is it?" He looked up at her, half hope half fear. She nodded.

"I do not want anything. I am happy. I am excited and grateful for this gift. You have given me so much, I don't not need more." Her conference grew with her every word until she was standing tall, without a fear. He heard her words but could not understand them. He reached his hand up, pausing just before he touched her stomach, but she placed her hand over his and pressed it down over their child. Blood rushed from his face and slight panic set in.

"I don't regret anything." Her words somehow made it through the sound of his heartbeat in his ears and the panic began to ease.

Natasha watched her partner as the woman unknowingly brought him down from impending panic the only she was privy to being able to see. She watched his actions, understanding flooding her body, followed by a feeling of betrayal. Why did he not tell her about this woman?

Odessa threaded a hand through his short dark blond hair. Clint forced his eyes up to hers and saw the peace she had filled in her brown eyes.

"Go, eat. Be with your friends." She nudged him with her hand, slipping the other our of his hair. Odessa took a step back so Clint could stand. She was not expecting, however, the swiftness in which he did so.

"I'm not leaving you again." A finality in his voice made her jam her hands on her hips in reaction. Her eyes matched his and a flash, a visible spark flew between them.

"I do not need you or any man." The defiance and confidence in her voice caused Natasha to smirk and Bruce (who was still sitting) to give a small smile.

"I know." Clint's fists opened and then closed again, a motion that Natasha knew as a sign of uncertainty. "Maybe I need you." His plea was soft, but she didn't miss the smallest hint of desperation hidden in the depth of his rough tone. All opposition left the Greek woman's posture as she reached a hand up to cup his cheek.

"Go, eat. You need your strength." She smiled up at him and ran a thumb over his cheek bone. "After all, you have just come from a hard days work." She watched the debate in his eyes, the flipping between sitting and eating or standing and pulling her into his arms. "Go." she pushed against his chest as she took a step toward him guiding him backwards. He relented a step of space to her, but as she started to turn away he grabbed her hand. Clint took a second step back, pulling her with him. Another step, then another. Step after step she followed him until they reached the table and he sat down in his chair. His eyes trained on the woman standing beside him before guiding her down to sit on his lap.

The team watched as their Archer wrapped his arms around the woman who held his complete attention, who in returned unwrapped an arm and placed his shawarma wrap in his hand. Natasha watched as the other woman raised an eyebrow at her partner and raised a matching brow when the man responded to her silent command. The other members of the team slowly began to take the seats and resume eating, although Bruce was quietly counting down to the moment when Tony would make an inappropriate comment to the newest addition at the table. Natasha sat and tried to catch Clint's attention, but his eyes never wavered from the woman on his lap.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back! I loved the feedback I got from Chap 1 and look forward to hearing your thoughts and predictions for this and upcoming chapters!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I only own Odessa  
**

* * *

Odessa looked up at the man who walked beside her down the New York street, who guided her around fallen buildings and over the bits of glass. The 8 months that she had been separate from this hero had not been kind. The limp, stiff muscles, and shallow cuts she knew were from the battle he had just finished, but the sleepless bruises under his eyes, the habitual slump of his shoulders, and the absence of mischief were the reasons she had said yes when he had asked her to come with him. She could see every sleepless night, every bad thought, and she hated it. The man guiding her though the ruble was no longer the relaxed, teasing man that had held her close.

Clint helped her over a piece of building, holding her forearms in his strong hands, expertly guiding her through the torn city. She caught his eye as she regained her balance and the smile he gave her was tired but lit his eyes and she couldn't help but return it with one of her own. They walked down the middle of the street, through the mess, and Clint tucked Odessa under his arm and wrapped an arm around her waist. She leaned into him, relishing in the familiarity of the movement. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that they were back in Greece. She could ignore the smell of gun powder and the distant sound of sirens, but she could not ignore the shift of the man holding her as he tried to hide his limp. Odessa opened her eyes and shifted the arm around her waist to up on her shoulder and tucked her arm around his back, taking on some of his weight.

Natasha walked behind her partner and the woman. Her eyes watching and analyzing every move the newcomer made. She watched as she looked over Barton's injuries, when she smiled at him and his eyes lit up, and when she shifted her body to assist him with his injured leg. Nothing the woman didn't showed malicious intent or pointed to an ulterior motive, but the red head was on edge.

Odessa stopped short when she realized where the Archer was leading her and ran her eyes up the tall tower. Clint watched as her head fell back on his arm as she tried to see the top of Stark Tower from where they were standing.

"We're going here?" She turned her head on his arm to look over at him, her eyes were wide and filled with shock and uncertainty. She had known that he wasn't Micheal the construction worker from Iowa, but she never imagined that he would live in Stark Tower. She watched him try to cover his uncertainty with an amused smile. He nodded and went to talk a step forward, but she didn't budge, the lack of movement caused Clint to turn toward her with his momentum.

"We are going to Stark Tower?"

Clint assessed her face and tried to figure out why she was resisting. It wasn't because she didn't trust him or because she was scared. Her body was locked and her eyes stared up at the top of the tower with her nose wrinkled. He smiled softly at her show of confusion. He squeezed her shoulder in an attempt to gain her attention. When she looked over at him, her nose relaxed but her brows drew together.

"Tony offered us a place for the night." He once again tried to mover her toward the tower entrance, but once again she refused to move.

"Tony?" He watch as her eyes grew large and finally registered who his companions were. When they had left the restaurant it hadn't mattered who Clint was with only that he had wanted her to come with him, but now she looked around at those waiting with her archer. There was a man with curly hair that was trying to hide himself, two tall blonds, a red haired woman that seem to be glaring at her, and just past the group stood Tony Stark. Tony smirked at the woman and winked. Clint saw and tightened his grip on Odessa's shoulders, to which Tony smirked again. The billionaire, tired of waiting for the others, turned and made his way into his tower. As the others followed, Clint dropped his hand to the small of Odessa'a back and pushed gently until she began to walk forward. They all fit in the roomie elevator and made the assent up the partially trashed living space.

* * *

Clint looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms. He had burned this sight into his brain 8 months ago, believing he would never have this again, never be able to hold her and feel the warmth and the trust of another person to sleep unguarded next to him. But she was here. Here in his arms again, her warmth seeped into his chest as she laid against him, the soft press of her head on his shoulder. She was here with him, here and carrying a child. His child. He was going to be a father.

The air left his lungs and he ran a hand through his hair. A father. He hadn't thought that he would ever have that, not with the life he had. Sure, he had let himself dream when he was in Greece, let himself pretend that he could have what 'Micheal' could offer, it was one of the reasons that coming back from that mission had been so rough. But now Odessa was here, beside him, pressed against his chest, with a hand resting on the swell of her stomach, protecting _their_ child. A child. Clint ran a hand through his hair again. There was going to be a child in his life. A child that was half him, half the fiery woman in his arms. Was he ready for that? Was he ready for the responsibility of a new life? Could he keep the baby safe? Odessa? He had a past, a dark one. One with people who wouldn't care if it was a child or woman they were hurting, as long as it got him, hurt him.

Fear began to wrap itself around his chest. Could he keep them safe? Would it be safer to be with them or to disappear from their lives and have no connection? Dread tangled with the fear in his heart at the thought of leaving the woman, the family, he just got back. He closed his eyes and tried to separate his emotion from fact. As he listed out safe houses in his head, Odessa shifted and rubbed her forehead against his shoulder and shifted her swollen belly against his side. Clint tightened his arm around her. He looked down at the woman and ran a hand through his hair again.

"What is it Tasha?" He softly whispered into the dark room. A figured stepped out of the corner and leaned against the back of the large couch.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She glanced down at the woman who rested between her partner and the back of the couch. A blanket was tucked around her and gripped in the fist resting now on Clint's chest. Clint brought the arm that covered his eyes to rest on Odessa's arm as he looked up at the woman above him.

"I did tell you, when you asked when I got back."

Natasha raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms.

"You know that's not what I meant when I asked."

"I had to keep her safe. She turned into something more then a contact. I was compromised." He looked over at her and realized he couldn't let her go, couldn't walk away from her again. He looked back up at his partner, determination shone in his eyes. "I didn't tell anyone about her, not even Coulson."

At their handler's name, the Red head flinched.

"What?" Clint knew what every movement from Natasha meant, every word and second meaning and he knew that a flinch was never good. His body tensed, waiting for what she would say but she simply knotted her eyebrows together.

"What happened to Phil?" He half sat up and jostled Odessa who blinked awake. Clint reached up and grabbed Natasha's wrist, a movement meant to keep her in place until the information was shared fully.

" Coulson is dead."


	3. Chapter 3

_"_ _Coulson is dead."_

Clint felt time stand still. He felt his heart stutter and his breath catch. His grip on Natasha's wrist went slack but she didn't try to pull away, but simply turned her wrist to grasp his as well. She could feel his pulse beat rapidly against her hand as she held his wrist. She watched the emotions play out in his eyes like a flip book flashing between shock and disbelief to fear and guilt back to loss and grief. Clint didn't feel Odessa struggle to sit up next to him. He didn't hear her call his name. All he saw was Tasha flinch, all he heard was the statement that came out of her mouth, all he felt was the cold numbness all over his body.

Odessa tried to prop herself up on an elbow, but between the pillow behind her, her 8 month along belly and a frozen Clint in front of her she couldn't get the leverage she needed to lift herself up. So she did the next best thing. Odessa placed a hand on Clint's chest and called his name again. She slid her hand up to his neck, then to his jaw as she called his name and tried to gain his attention. She gently pulled on his jaw to make him look down at her. His head followed her direction without resistance but his eyes were vacant as they turned toward hers. She rubbed her thumb along his jaw, waiting for him to focus, allowing him time to process what his partner had told him.

She didn't know how much time passed before Clint's eyes focused on hers. But when they did, she gasped at the raw emotion swirling in his green eyes. Her lips pressed together, unsure at how to comfort him, on what to say. But when he sunk back down onto the couch and dropped his head on her shoulder, she wrapped her arms around his and ran her hand through his hair. When he wrapped himself around her, she was grateful that he had insisted on the stack of pillows behind her when she first laid down. He made no sound as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, but she felt the tears that fell from his eyes, the physical expression of his grief.

Natasha watched as Odessa comforted her partner, getting the Clint that only she had ever seen. She watched as Clint brought the Greek woman closer to himself and closed his emotions around them, leaving Natasha on the outside. She felt a bolt of an unidentified emotion flash through her and she frowned at the feeling. Natasha turn and waked away from the couple to research the woman that her partner trusted.

* * *

Clint slowly woke up as he kept his eyes closed and allowed his other senses to asses his surroundings. First things first. From memory he knew he was on one of the couches at Starks place, he could feel the smooth cushions under his side. Next, he wasn't alone. The warm curves that were nearly under him told him as such and the large firm curve reminded him of who's arms were around him. Her familiar scent filled his nose that was tucked against her neck. Her heartbeat was strong and steady under his ear. Slowly he opened his eyes and took in the dark hair in complete disarray, the riding up t-shirt, and the open mouthed breathing. She looked so peaceful, so content in her situation that he wondered how that might change when she woke up. He felt her arms heavy on his back and her hands loosely holding his t-shirt. His arms were around her middle as he wrapped himself around her bump and the slight wiggling of his fingers proved the numbness in his right arm.

He shifted his body slightly in an attempt to pull himself up on the couch, but Odessa tightened her grip on him, holding him close. The movement also reminded him of the battle that was fought the day before. His muscles protested and his joints creaked. He frowned at the stiffness in his body and automatically started to plan a stretching routine and a long hot shower.

Movement in his arms brought his attention to the brown eyes that started to flutter open. Warmth poured out of her gaze and washed over him, which calmed his mind more then anything had in the last 8 months. Odessa ran her hand through his hair and smiled at the sigh the movement brought.

"You need a shower, you have bits of dirt in your hair." She told him as she began to pull out pieces of rubble from his light brown hair. Clint laughed and placed a light kiss on her collar bone before reaching up and swatting at her hand. She hummed and returned to her petting. The lightheartedness of the moment began to dissipate as Clint thought and remembered the consequences of Loki playing with his mind. Odessa saw him pull back mentally, watched as grief and self-hate clouded his vision and blinded him. His eyebrows drew together and his lips pursed, she felt his muscle tense under her hand as his body reacted to the thoughts crowding his mind. He needed something to do, something to keep his hands busy while he worked through his thoughts.

"Clint?" Odessa rubbed her hand along his back and waited for him to focus on her face. "I need to get up, but I need help." She watched as the words filtered in and registered before he unwound himself from around her and stood. His sharp mind quickly worked out a strategy for the best way to help her off the couch. That task complete, he took a seat as she left to avail herself of the bathroom. The moment that Odessa left sight of the couch, Natasha sat beside him.

"Satisfied with your search?" Clint asked as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.

Natasha sat still and watched her partner out of the corner of her eye. She gave him a sharp nod.

"I didn't tell you because if I told you then I couldn't pretend it was a dream and if I couldn't pretend it was a dream then I never would have been able to leave." His head dropped. "I was trying to protect myself. But now, I can't pretend. She's real and she's here and she's pregnant and I can't let her go. Not again, Nat. I can't."

"I know, Clint." She glanced behind her when she heard the woman in question turn the corner, but watched her hesitate and wait to give the partners space to talk. "I met with Fury. You've been give three months psych leave. Off record he set up a safe house and a bank account."

Clint felt Tasha lean closer to him, he responded and pressed his shoulder against her.

"Did you know that Coulson had a off book, off shore trust fund set up for us?"

Clint dropped his head further and clasped his hands over his head. They sat in silence, both mulling over the meaning behind the implications of their handler's decisions. Not only had he taken in two broken, wild assassins, but he treated them as humans and, in his own way, as his children.

"Take them and go, I don't want to hear from you for three months."

Clint looked up at his partner and knew this was her giving her blessing and protection. She gave him a rare smile and stood "dropping" a manila envelope behind her. He slowly picked it up as Odessa came to stand beside him.

"What is that?" She rested a hand on his shoulders and kneaded the stiff muscles she found there.

"What you will need if you want to have a life with me."

 **I know this was short and I'm sorry, but I hope you enjoyed it. There will be one more chapter for this story. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, this is he last chapter! Thank you so much to those who read, favorited/followed, and** **commented!**

 **Barton** : _It's a boy_

Natasha looked at the txt from two months ago and smiled. Clint had been true to her demand and hadn't talked to her except to tell her when the baby had been born. She placed the phone back in her pocket and took the quintet off autopilot. She could hear the rest of the team behind her talking about various things, she didn't listen but simply kept a lookout for a place to land. With a clearing in sight, Natasha puts the quintet down in a smooth landing, those in the back hardy knew that had touched the ground. As they left the clearing and walked toward the older farm house, Nat saw Clint standing on the porch with Odessa beside him. His arm was wrapped around her waist and she was holding a bundle in a green blanket. As she got closer she could see the resting slant of his shoulders and his easy smile and knew that he hadn't been this relaxed in a very long time. The pair waited for the team to join them on the porch before greeting them. Clint left Odessa's side to wrap his arms around his partner, who briefly hugged him back.

"Cap, Tony, Bruce glad to see you again. Come meet my son, Cooper Philip Barton." Clint stepped back to Odessa and proudly showed his team his new family. The baby was sleeping, but his mother was smiling at the group of heroes. She pulled the blanket down a bit to show off the baby and her smile grew as the team made the appropriate sounds. Natasha walked up to her first and took the baby, holding the infant close to her chest as she examined him. Cooper looked like any two month old baby, her sharp eye could pick out the features that Clint had passed down to his son. Even as she saw her partner, she also saw Odessa. The boy was a beautiful mix of his parents and she hoped that his mothers values covered his father's faults. Natasha looked up and saw the the men of the team hanging back as if afraid of the child, well they were going hold they baby whether they liked it or not. She walked across the porch and handed Steve the baby before he could step away from her. The large man lost a little blood in his face as he tried to hold the baby close. Tasha adjusted his arms to hold little Cooper more secure but then stepped back to let him bond with the boy.

Steve looked down at the infant who was dwarfed in his arms. He marveled at the tiny child and figured he could hold him in just his hands, but at that thought he brought the child closer to his chest. He had held babies before, back when he was touring, but never had he held a child that belonged to someone he knew or was going to be in contact with after the first meeting. He had always assumed growing up that he would have a family, but after the war broke out and becoming Captain America then when he went down and woke up in the future with everything going on, he felt his dream die back in the ice, but holding his teammate's son, he felt the hope that one day this could be his. He looked into the brown eyes of the child and smiled as he promised to make the world better for him. Just as Steve was getting comfortable holding Cooper, Tony walked up next to him.

"Ok, Capsicle, it's my turn with the nephew." He announced while he gathered the child into his arms. "Don't worry kid, I wouldn't let your old man or Uncle Cap bore you to death. I'm the cool Uncle." He bounced the baby like a pro before handing the child to a nervous Bruce.

"No, I don't think I should." He tried to protest, but Tony was having none of that and carefully, but forcefully placed the baby in the timid man's arms.

"Alright, so where should I put the goodies?" He spun around the porch before walking inside the farm house. Clint rolled his eyes, but followed the man inside to supervise him. Odessa stayed outside with the rest of the team.

"There is lemonade and sandwiches inside if you are hungry." The new mother smiles at the unsure men still on her porch. Steve relaxed a bit and nodded his thanks and Bruce handed the baby back to his mother before following his male teammates inside. Odessa turned back to the Redhead. Once again they evaluated each other, but the hostility was now gone from their eyes.

"Thank you, for everything." Odessa snuggled her son as she addressed the woman before her. Natasha tipped her head and smiled a rare, real smile.

"You make him happy." They shared a smile and then a look as the sound of something breaking rang through the house. They both sighed and secretly thankful that they're were now two of them to watch over their boys.


End file.
